


Hunted Hunter

by noladyme



Series: Skip To My Lou, My Darling [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:07:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27475504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noladyme/pseuds/noladyme
Summary: The road so far…Lulu’s relationship with Dean Winchester ended before it began; when the hunter informed her, that he thought angels had put them in each other’s path. He wanted free will, and didn’t believe their emotions were real.Now Lulu is on the path of living a new life; one without supernatural beings, angels – and the man she feels deeper for than anyone she’s ever met before or after.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Skip To My Lou, My Darling [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2007559
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

“Honey, grab me that roll of duct tape…”, Pete said. He was closing another cardboard box of books for me.  
I handed him the roll, and went back to the task of folding up clothes to put on top of the box of volumes I was packing myself.   
Pete came up behind me, and snaked his arms around my waist.   
“See?”, he said, while kissing my neck. “When you pack boxes half books/half clothes, they’re a lot less heavy”.  
“You’re right”, I muttered.

I turned around and kissed his cheek. He smelled nice; musky – but it lacked something. A certain note of smoke and charcoal. Gunpowder, I thought to myself.  
I tore myself from the thought, and grabbed another towel for the box.  
“Isn’t this Raul’s?”, Pete said; and held up a flannel shirt.  
“No… it’s mine”, I said. “Sort of”.  
Pete lifted a brow at me.  
“An ex?”, he jeered. “And you still have his shirt? What does he have, that I don’t?”, he grinned.  
I chuckled.  
“Taste in music”, I jeered; and went over to turn off the stereo, which had been playing Nickelback non-stop, since Pete arrived to help me finish my packing.

“The truck is waiting, muffin”, he said. “We need to finish this”.  
I lingered in front of a drawer in my dresser.  
“Yeah… Could you take down a few boxes?”, I said.  
“Sure”, he said; and walked over to take my hand. “Hey… this is the right move. Buddies going out of business like that… It’s the next step for us”.  
I nodded sadly.  
Pete grabbed the lightest box, and left the studio apartment I’d spent the last few years in.

We were moving to Kansas City; the home of my alma mater – where I’d been offered a position as a 3’rd grade teacher. Pete was going to focus on his music while I worked. He’d nabbed a gig as a bartender; and would also be going on a tour of Missouri about a week after we arrived, with his band.  
Sweet as he was, he was also a bit clingy since I’d agreed to go with him to Kansas. I was honestly looking forward to a full month to myself; without him hovering over me.

When I was sure he was gone, I opened the bottom drawer in the dresser; and lifted the fake bottom I’d put in it. Grabbing my utility jacket; I took the angel sword from the drawer, and slid into the inside pocket I’d sown into it – specifically for this reason.  
I also took my flask of holy water; and threw it in my purse.  
“Honey-sweetie-bunch?”, Pete said from behind me; making me jump. “What’s that? Secret drawer of toys?”, he winked.  
“Something like that”, I smiled; trying to hide the surprise in my voice. “Just a gift from a friend”.  
“The ex?”, he asked, narrowing his eyes.  
“Nope”, I said; and stood up. “Last box”, I said, and gestured towards the cardboard box on the floor.  
Pete grunted.  
“My back is killing me…”.  
I rolled my eyes, and picked up the box myself, as he held the door for me.

As he closed it behind us, he ran his hand over the carved sigil on the wood.  
“No surprise you didn’t get much of a deposit back”, he muttered. “Come on”.  
I looked at the sigil, sighed; and followed my boyfriend down the stairs.

\---

A little over week later I was stood in my new kitchen, kissing Pete goodbye.  
“I’m gonna miss you so much”, he breathed into my hair.  
“Me too”, I said.  
He slid his hand down my arm; brushing the almost invisible scars there.  
“Just remember, I’m coming back. Ok?”, he said. “You’ll be fine. Think happy thoughts. And no more weird occult books”.  
“Uh huh”, I muttered. Pete still thought my scars were from a suicide attempt.  
“I love you”, he smiled.  
“You too”, I said.  
He leaned in and pecked my lips.  
“Bye”.

I closed the door after him, and took a deep breath. Thank god, I thought.  
“Hello, Lulu”, a voice behind me said.  
I grabbed the kitchen knife on the counter, and turned around quickly. My eyes widened.  
“Castiel?”, I croaked. I put down the knife, and rushed over to embrace the angel. Unsurprisingly, he didn’t reciprocate the hug. “What are you doing here?”, I asked.

The angel strolled through the combined kitchen and living room, seemingly taking in the sights. He looked a little worse for wear; red marks around his eyes.  
“This is your home now”, he said, more as a statement than a question.  
“Yeah… me and…”.  
“Pete”, Castiel said. “I saw him leave. I decided against making myself known”.  
I narrowed my eyes.  
“I appreciate that… but you still didn’t tell me why you’re here”, I said. My breath hitched. “Are they…?”.  
“Sam and Dean are alive, and somewhat well”, he muttered. “Things have happened to me since we last met. I have gained powers beyond your comprehension. As a gesture of compassion, I’ve decided to let you know that I will no longer be watching over you”.

I stepped backwards from Cass; feeling a sudden chill all over my body.  
“You’ve been… watching”, I muttered. “Why?”.  
“As a favor to Dean. But I have more important things to tend to, than his emotions”.  
I made a scoffing laugh.  
“You’ve been reporting to him? About me…”.  
“Only on your wellbeing. I haven’t given him details on your life. Only that you live and thrive”, Castiel said. “And I won’t be doing that anymore. You are on your own. I have a final gift, as a thank you for your former loyalty”. He put his hand to my chestbone, and a surge of pain went through my entire body. I yelped in pain. “Now angels will not be able to find you. I will have mercy on you in the upcoming battle”.  
“What? Cass, I…”.  
He was gone.

I sat down on a chair; my hands shaking. Dialing up the only number I could think of, with bated breath, I waited for the call to go through.  
“Agent Fisher speaking…”.  
“Bobby?”, I croaked.  
“Who’s this?”, the old man grunted.  
“It’s Lulu…”.  
There was a pause.  
“It’s been a while… Why no calls?”, he asked.  
“I’ve been... trying to move on”.  
“I figured that… just thought you’d let your Uncle Bobby know how you were doing. Are you still into leisurely reading about the occult?”.   
“Yes…”, I admitted.

I’d been receiving calls from Bobby about once a month since I left South Dakota with Castiel. He’d had me look up creatures and ghosts I knew he could easily find info on himself. I figured he wanted to keep me studying up to keep me warm for potential hunting in the future.  
In spite of the thrill I’d felt helping the Winchesters and him solve the case of both the bloody countess and the myling; the thought of actually hunting myself, was much too farfetched. And it reminded me of someone I didn’t want to think about.  
I’d stopped calling Bobby back a good six months earlier.

“What’s wrong, kid?”, Bobby asked quietly.  
“I just had a visit from our winged friend”.  
“You saw Cass?”, he asked. “What did he do to you?”.  
“I don’t know. It was painful. He said angels wouldn’t be able to find me… What’s going on, Bobby?”.  
“Same as always”, he grunted.  
“End of the world… that sort of thing?”, I said.  
“Something like that… He’s put some markings on your bones. Old enochian... It’ll hide you from angels”. I heard him take a deep breath. “Sweetheart, it’s good to hear your voice. Are you ok?”.  
“Yeah. I guess… In spite of the angel bad-touching me. He was saying some weird things. About watching over me”, I muttered. “Apparently, he quits. So, if you could tell Dean, that would be great”.  
“Lulu, it’s not like that…”, Bobby began.  
“You don’t have to defend him. I’m sure he just thought he was doing the right thing… again”, I said. “I just wish he’d make up his mind. Be in my life, or not”.  
“From what I hear, you’d prefer the not”, Bobby grunted.  
“What do you mean?”, I croaked. He didn’t answer. “Bobby!”.  
“I’ve been keeping tabs on you… Wanted to make sure you were ok”.  
“Dammit, Bobby. What is it with you hunters?”, I growled.  
“Can’t help it, kid. You grew on me”.  
I smiled to myself, as Bobby continued  
“You would have made a great hunter. Or at least researcher. You were my favorite assistant, you know”.  
“So you stalked me?”, I chuckled.  
“I have a friend with a computer”, Bobby grunted. “Kansas City?”.  
“Yeah… for now, I guess”, I said.  
“And the boyfriend?”, Bobby said. “Is he aware that it’s for now?”.  
I sighed.  
“Just… please let him know. Tell him I’m fine, and to…”. I didn’t know how to finish the sentence.   
“I will”, Bobby said.  
“Bye”, I croaked.  
“Goodbye, kid”, he said. I hung up.

\---

Some months later, I was at work; ignoring phone calls from Pete. He’d been calling non stop since I moved out of our shared apartment, and into a hotel room.  
His texts were constant, and I was reeling from lack of sleep, due to my neighbors in the hotel keeping me up with loud fights.

As I said goodbye to the kids for the weekend, my phone once again rang. I closed the door to my classroom, and finally relented – picking up the call.  
“Pete. I told you…”.  
“Lulu…”. There was that voice that had always made my heart flutter – and I had missed so bad I could feel it in my bones, whether I wanted to admit it to myself or not.  
“Dean… hi”, I said. “It’s been a while”.  
“Yeah…”, he sounded choked.  
“What’s wrong?”, I asked.  
“It’s, uhm… It’s Bobby. We lost him, Lulu”.  
I gasped raggedly.   
“Bobby’s dead?”, I croaked.  
“Yeah. He’s gone”.   
“I’m so sorry, Dean”, I breathed.  
“Me too… He had some stuff he wanted you to have”, Dean said quietly. “We’re in Kansas. I was wondering if I could drop them by”.  
The thought of seeing my former paramour again made my breath hitch.  
“Uhm… yeah. I’m in…”, I began.  
“I know”, he muttered. “Tonight? It’ll just be me. I hope that’s ok”.  
“Yeah, sure. I’ll be there”, I said quietly.  
“See you”, he said, and hung up.

I had to sit down for a moment. Bobby was gone. And I was about to see Dean for the first time in almost three years.  
My heart was racing; and when my phone rang again, I picked it up immediately.

“Dean?”, I rasped.  
“Who’s Dean, honey?”, Pete’s voice asked.  
I sighed.  
“No one, Pete. I asked you not to call me again”.  
“Lulukins, I miss you so bad it hurts”, he said  
“I can’t do this right now. I just heard about a death in the family, and I…”.  
“Do you want me to drop by? I could bring a movie…”, Pete almost pleaded.  
“No, that’s not necessary. Just… please leave me alone”.  
I hung up.

I drove back to my hotel – heart frayed, and at the same time jumping out of my chest.   
Knowing what had happened the last time I saw a Winchester just having lost someone they loved, I picked up a bottle of bourbon, and for Dean’s – and my own sake – I got a pie and canned whipped cream as well.  
I spent a good while in front of the mirror, pretending that I wasn’t trying to make myself look nice.

When the door knocked, I sprang over to it – then paused, as to not make myself seem too eager.  
I opened the door, and there he stood.

“Hi…”, I croaked.  
“Hey”, he whispered.  
We stood in silence for a moment, before I stepped aside.  
“Come in”.  
Dean stepped into my room, and looked around.  
“This is… nice”, he said.  
“It’s a dump. But it’s cheap”.

He looked at me with sad eyes. I stepped over to him, and put my arms around his neck; hugging him tightly.  
“I’m so sorry”, I whispered, as tears began flooding my eyes. “Bobby…”.  
He slid his arms around me. He smelled different than I remembered. More crisp.  
“Yeah… It sucks”. He pulled back.  
“A drink?”, I asked.  
“Sure…”.

He went to sit down by the small table in the room, and I handed him a glass of whiskey I’d already prepared.  
“How are you? Both of you?”, I asked, not wanting him to think I was specifically concerned for him.  
“We’re good… considering”, he muttered. “You? Anything weird going on here?”.  
I frowned, and sat down across from him, lifting my glass, and taking a sip.  
“I’m ok. Just sad to hear about Bobby. What happened?”.  
Dean looked down.  
“He was shot… in the head”.  
My breath grew ragged.  
“And he’s not coming back… like you did”.  
He looked at me; his eyes strangely distant – like he was looking at a complete stranger.  
“No. He’s gone for good”.

I lifted my glass.  
“To Bobby”, I muttered. Dean lifted his own glass, and clinked mine.  
“To Bob”, he said, and drank. I held my breath for a moment, and let it go once he put down his glass again.

I went over to the fridge, and got out the pie; cutting two slices.  
He looked at me intently.  
“Cream?”, I asked.  
“No thanks”, he said quietly.  
I frowned to myself, and looked over my shoulder at him; as I got two forks from the small kitchenette drawer, and placed a plate in front of Dean.  
“Sorry about the mismatched silverware. Like I said, this place is a dump”.  
He half smiled, and shrugged.

I sat down with my own pie, and cut a piece.  
“Eat up”, I said, and put the piece into my mouth; savoring the sweet taste.  
“Not hungry?”, I asked.  
He shook his head.  
“Not really…”.  
“It’s pie, Dean”, I said.  
He looked at me, and grabbed the fork; finally taking a piece himself – suddenly almost devouring it with insatiable hunger.

“So, you really haven’t seen anything strange around? No weirdness at all?”, he asked; his mouth full.  
I stood up, and went over to grab the bottle of whiskey from the counter.  
“No… why are you asking?”.  
He shrugged.  
“I just thought… After Bobby, someone might come for you”.  
The way he said it was as if he didn’t really care.  
“Are you asking about Cass?”, I said.  
“Oh, no… He’s dead too”.  
My jaw dropped.  
“Cass is dead?”.  
“Yup. Sort of… drowned”.

I poured him another glass.  
“You seem… indifferent”, I muttered.  
He looked at me coldly.  
“He was… my friend”.  
“Yes”, I nodded. “You’re not upset about him being gone?”.  
Dean suddenly smiled. The sight gave me shivers.  
“He was put to good use”.

I stepped backwards, heading for my jacket.  
“You going somewhere?”, Dean grunted; his green eyes hard.  
I smiled softly at him.  
“No, just needed something in my pocket”, I said, and slid my hand around the handle of the sword there. “You said you had something for me”, I muttered, and held the blade to my chest; keeping my back to him.  
I could see him shift in his chair, as his movements where mirrored in the water tap.  
He rose, and walked towards me; making a chill run down my spine.  
“I lied”, he said. “I just needed a good look at you before I eat you, and take your form”.

I spun around, and slashed at him; making him jump backwards. Leaning back on my right foot, I sprang forward again; the blade going through his gut.  
He simply looked at me – grinning.  
“What are you?”, I snarled.  
“Beyond your comprehension, human”, he hissed.

I pulled back the knife, and sprang for the door; the creature looking like Dean blocking my path with inhuman speed.  
“No, you don’t”, he chuckled. “Feisty, aren’t you?”  
“You don’t know the half of it”, I sneered, and slashed at him again  
“That doesn’t hurt me”, he smiled, and jumped at me.

I hacked at his hand, parting it from his arm; as he looked on in wonder.  
“Now I’ll have to grow a new one, you bitch!”, he growled.

Suddenly the door blew open, and two people I was very happy to see sprang inside.  
“Lou! Get back!”, the real Dean growled.  
He threw a glass jar of some kind of liquid at the creature; and as it splintered, and the monster was covered by the stuff, it began screaming in pain – smoke coming from it’s skin.  
“Let’s go!”, Sam yelled. I grabbed my jacket, and ran down the hall – Dean grabbing my hand as we went.  
As we passed the reception counter, Dean threw a wad of bills at the guy behind it.  
“She’s checking out!”, he snarled, and with a hand on my back, he led me out of the door to the street.

Sam and Dean flanked me, and we walked down the street.  
“Just walk; don’t run”, Sam muttered. “Pretend everything is fine”.  
“What’s going on?”, I asked.  
“Later”, Dean said. “Keep moving”.  
I tried my best to look inconspicuous, and walked between the two men as if we were just taking an evening stroll.  
“I left my purse… my wallet”, I whispered.  
“You won’t need it”, Dean grunted. “This way”.

He pushed me towards an alleyway, where a station wagon was parked. Something was wrong – Dean wouldn’t be caught dead in this suburban-mom nightmare.  
My breath hitched.  
“Who are you?”, I said; and pulled out the sword again.  
“What are you talking about?”, Sam asked.  
From another pocket, I produced my flask.  
“Drink!”, I snarled.

He let out a breath, and grabbed the flask; drinking from it before handing it to Dean, who did the same.  
“We could still be shifters”, the elder brother muttered, and handed me back the flask.  
“Silver coated…”, I said; and held up the flask.  
“Good girl”, Dean said; the corner of his lip lifting.

“Hey!”, a loud voice yelled.  
I looked in its direction, and saw another Sam.  
“Get in the car”, Dean said; and opened the door to the back seat for me, slamming it shut after I got in.  
The brothers jumped in the front seat, and Dean put the key in the ignition, turning it.  
Only clicking sounds came from the engine.  
“Come on, you piece of crap!”, he growled, and turned the key again.  
The other Sam ran towards us, and slammed his palms on the hood of the car.  
Dean turned the key, cursing below his breath; and the engine started. He slammed down the pedal; and drove straight at the copy of his brother, making him roll over the hood, and onto the ground.

Dean raced down the alley, and turned onto the busy street.

We drove in silence for a while; leaving the city behind us. My heart was racing, and I almost thought it was my own body shaking, when I felt my phone vibrating in my back pocket.  
It was Pete.  
“I can’t talk!”, I said.  
“Honey, where are you? There’re police at your hotel!”, he almost yelled.  
“I’m… The family thing”, I said.  
“I should be with you”, he said.  
“You really shouldn’t. And stop calling”. I hung up.

Dean looked at me in the back mirror.  
“Boyfriend?”, he asked.  
“Ex”, I muttered. He held my gaze for a moment, before returning to the road. “Can you turn on the radio? I need a distraction from the guy who’s hand I just chopped off”.  
Sam turned on the radio.  
“Pop Radio. All night for your listening pleasure”, a cheery voice said. A soft guitar began playing.  
“Lying in your arms, so close together. Didn’t know just what I had. Now I toss and turn, ‘cuz I’m without you. How I’m missing you so bad…”, the song began.

Dean turned off the radio again.  
“We need CD’s for this piece of junk”, he grumbled.

After about 30 minutes of driving, we pulled up at a dreary looking motel. The brothers led me into a generic looking rented room.  
Once inside, Sam locked and bolted the door.  
I stood for a moment, just looking at the two men in front of me. This time it was really Dean – I was sure of it. He was a little older – a few crows’ feet at the corner of his eyes, which in no way to away from his handsomeness. In a strange way, they added to it.   
His green eyes sparkled, and his lips drew upwards into a soft smile. I sprang into his arms; and he held me tightly, as I buried my face in the crook of his neck. Musk, gunpowder and whiskey. He was warm, and his arms enveloped me in that familiar and comforting way; that yet had me feel like I was touching him for the first time, and sent delightful heat straight to my core – and to my heart.  
Yeah. This was Dean.  
As I pulled back, I had to fight the urge to brush my lips against his.

I turned to Sam, and he pulled me close, kissing the top of my head.  
“Hi, Lulu”, he said quietly. “Sorry about the abrupt kidnapping”.  
“It’s ok. Figured it was life or death”, I smiled.  
The brothers both let out a soft chuckle.

I went to sit down, my legs shaking slightly.  
“You live dangerously, Lou”, Dean said. “Two years, and you just let me walk in to your place?”.  
I shrugged.  
“I took precautions”, I said. He frowned. “I poured holy water into his drink, and had him eat with a silver fork”, I said.   
“That’ll work against demons and shifters, not leviathans”, he muttered.  
“What?”, I grimaced. “No one told me about any leviathans. And I don’t know what those are”.  
“Gods original monsters”, Sam said. “Bad guys”.  
I scoffed.  
“That became quite apparent, when he mentioned eating me”.

I sighed.  
“So, he was lying, right? About Bobby being dead? Cass?”. Sadness marked both the brother’s faces. I drew in a short breath. “No…”, I whimpered.  
“Gunshot… with Bobby”, Dean muttered, not meeting my eyes.  
“Castiel?”, I whispered.  
“We’re not sure…”, Sam said. “He… brought them here. The leviathans”.

I closed my eyes, and shook my head.  
“He came to see me a while back. Talked about watching over me”. I sent Dean a look. He seemed uncomfortable.  
“Bobby told us”, Sam said. “He also mentioned you were in Kansas”.  
“He’d been keeping track of me, after I stopped returning his calls”, I replied.  
Dean frowned.  
“You kept in touch?”.  
“Did some research for him”, I said. “Greenbrier Ghost in West Virginia ring a bell?”.  
He narrowed his eyes at me.  
“You tracked down the husbands grave”, Sam smiled.  
I nodded.

Dean sat down across the table from me. He raised a worried brow.  
“Bobby had you hunting?”, he grunted.  
“Not exactly”, I said. “I was just looking up stuff for him”.  
Sam chuckled.  
“But he was heading in that direction with you, wasn’t he…?”.  
“I think so…”, I muttered “He wanted me studying, I know that much”. Dean shook his head in frustration. “What?”, I asked.  
“He should have left you alone”, he muttered.  
I narrowed my eyes at him.  
“What… Like stay out of my life, and not have angels following me around?”, I smirked.

Dean looked away, and cleared his throat.  
“We move on tomorrow”.  
“Move on where?”, I asked. “I have to go to work on Monday”.  
Sam frowned.  
“You should probably call in sick”, he said quietly.  
“Or dead”, Dean added.

I looked between the two men, my heart in my throat.  
“What’s going on?”, I croaked. “What’s a… leviathan?”.  
“Nasty sons of bitches, with one goal”, Dean said. “To eat”.  
I grimaced in confusion.  
“Us… humans”, Sam said.  
“Wow…”, I muttered. “That sounds… terrifying”. I swallowed hard. “And they were coming for me, why?”.  
Dean stood up, and went over to the minifridge to grab a beer. Sam looked at his brother, then moved his eyes to me; giving me a slight shrug in explanation.  
“Oh…”, I said. “They’re after you, and the…”.  
“People we care about, yeah”, Sam said.

I laughed and shook my head.  
“Just when I thought I got out”, I said.  
“You did get out, didn’t you?”, Dean asked, taking a swig of his beer. His eyes were hard.  
I nodded.  
“I stopped returning Bobby’s calls about a year ago. Suddenly, sadness took over me. “I wish I’d…”.  
Tears welled up in my eyes. “I loved that cranky old bastard”.  
Sam put a hand on my shoulder, and squeezed it.  
“We know”.

I wiped my eyes in my sleeve, and let out a deep breath.  
“The… other Dean said he left something for me”, I said. “It’s why I said yes to him visiting me”.  
The Winchesters looked at each other for a moment, before Sam stepped over to his bag, and grabbed a leather bound journal – much like the one their father had left them.  
“Sam, no”, Dean grunted.  
“He wanted her to have it”, Sam said. “Must have a had a reason for it”.  
Dean furrowed his brows in exasperation.  
“Yeah, he wanted her to hunt. And she’s not doing that”.  
“Not your call”, Sam said.

He handed me the book. It was a collection of notes on supernatural creatures; scribbled in a familiar hand. The curses written in the margins made me smile slightly.  
This was Bobby’s journal.  
“He left this for me”, I whispered.  
“Sort of”, Sam said. “His death came as a surprise, so he didn’t exactly have a will. But there’s this”. He opened the first page of the book, and pulled out a note from a small pocket in the leather.  
“If found, deliver to Lulu Moore”, it read.  
“I can’t be the only one with that name in the country”, I muttered.  
“You’re probably the only one he knew”, Sam said.

I turned over the note. A message was written there.  
“If you’re reading this, I’m probably dead. There’s no other reason for this thing to be in anyone else’s hands.  
Lulu. Take care of this book. It contains most of the research you did for me, with my own additions. There are also writings from before we met, that I think might come in handy, if you ever come across those two knuckleheads we both know.  
Stay safe, kid. But don’t stop reading.  
\- Garth, if this is you; stop reading my private notes. Give the book to the woman I meant it for.  
Bobby.”

I let out a deep breath, and closed the book; holding it tightly to my chest.  
“If you read this note, you knew I was helping him”, I said.  
Sam looked down.  
“I knew. Dean didn’t”.  
“You knew?”, Dean growled. “You know how I feel about her hunting!”.  
“Yes, that’s why I didn’t tell you”, Sam retorted.  
Dean shook his head, and laughed sarcastically.  
“Anything else you didn’t tell me?”, he snarled.  
Sam looked at me.  
“Pete…”, he muttered. “Bobby kept me up to speed”.  
Dean frowned.  
“Who’s Pete?”. I met his eyes. “Oh… the boyfriend”.  
“Ex”, I whispered. “It didn’t work out”.

Sam looked out the corner of his eye at his brother. Dean took another swig of his beer, before putting it on the counter.  
“Get some sleep. We leave early”, he grunted. “I’m going to pack the car. I’m telling you, because I tell people things”.  
He grabbed a duffle from the floor, and left the room – slamming the door behind him.

“That went well”, I muttered.  
“He’s just… in pain”, Sam said. “Take my bed”, he said, and gestured for one of the two beds in the room.  
I shook my head.  
“Couch is fine”, I said, took off my jacket; and went over to lay down.

I pretended to be asleep when Dean reentered the room.  
“She out?”, he muttered.  
“Think so”, Sam whispered.  
“Good”, Dean said. “We need to get her somewhere safe, and move on. She can’t be around us”.  
“Around you, you mean”, Sam answered.  
“Not having this conversation again…”, Dean replied, and I heard the mattress of his bed creaking as he laid down.  
“Dean…”, Sam whispered.  
“Goodnight, Sammy”, Dean said.

\---

When I woke, Dean was packing up his bag, and Sam was gone. I sat up on the couch, and stretched.  
“Sleep ok?”, he asked.  
“Yeah… coffee?”, I rasped.  
He zipped up the bag.  
“There’s a vending machine by the reception”, he said. I stood up, and grabbed my coat. “I’ll get it”, he muttered without looking at me.  
“I can get my own coffee”, I said.  
“You shouldn’t go out alone”, he grunted.  
I sighed.  
“I’m going”, I said, and reached for the doorknob.  
“Lou, come here”, he said.  
I turned around.  
“What, Dean?”, I said.  
“Just… please?”, he asked more warmly.

I stepped over to him, and he held out a small handgun.  
“This is a .45. It’s like mine, just… better for you. Smaller”. He pulled out a magazine. “Push it in. Pull back the barrel once”. He showed me the mechanism of the gun. “Safety off, safety on. Pull the hammer…”.  
“Point and shoot”, I said.  
He put the gun in my hand.  
“Exactly”. He looked into my eyes, and for a moment it seemed like he wanted to say something important; before he looked down again. “Grab me a cup, would you?”.  
“Yeah…”, I whispered, and stuck the gun into my pocket.

Outside, Sam was closing the trunk of the car.  
“Coffee run”, I said. “You want anything?”.  
“I’m good”, he smiled. “You armed?”.  
“The reception is just over there”, I chuckled, and gesture towards the place I was going. “But yeah. .45”.  
Sam nodded.  
“You good, Lulu?”, he asked.  
I shrugged.  
“As I’ll ever be, I guess”.

My phone rang; Pete’s name blaring up on the screen. I rolled my eyes.  
“I gotta take this”, I muttered, and picked up the call. “Pete…”.  
“Lulu, where are you?”, he said.  
“I’m… with family”, I said, and began walking towards the front desk.  
“Those two men you left with… They’re bad news”, Pete exclaimed.  
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me”.  
“The cops are looking for them”.  
“How do you know…? And how do you know I’m with them?”, I asked.  
Pete paused for a moment.  
“Some people saw you… Honey, I want you home. Safe”.  
“Pete, stop calling me honey, and… just stop calling me”. I hung up.

Once back at the car, I handed Dean his coffee – receiving a grunt as a thank you.  
“Who was on the phone?”, Sam asked.  
“Pete”, I muttered. “The police are looking for you… and me, I think”.  
Dean looked across the parking lot, as if scanning it for unwelcome company.  
“Let’s go”, he grunted.  
“Where are we going?”, I asked, sipping at my paper cup.  
“You’re going somewhere safe”, Dean said. “We have a job”.  
“And where is safe?”, I asked.  
“Yeah, where?”, Sam smirked.  
“She’s not going with us to Lincoln”, Dean said grimly.  
I sighed and rolled my eyes.  
“Then take me back to my hotel”.

The brothers looked at each other.  
“It burnt down”, Sam said. “Shortly after we left the city”.  
He handed me a newspaper, showing me an article with a headline suggesting arson. I wondered why Pete hadn’t mentioned the fire.  
“All my stuff was in there…”, I sighed.  
Dean’s eyes widened.  
“Your books? Records?”, he gasped.  
I shook my head.  
“No, that’s all at my… at Pete’s apartment”. Dean let out a relieved sigh. “But my wallet with my driver’s license, my credit cards… everything”.  
Sam’s brows raised.  
“Good. That’s good, Lulu”, he said. “That means they can’t track you using them”.  
“The leviathans?”, I asked. He nodded. “I’m really in it again, aren’t I”, I sighed.  
“That you are, sweetheart”, Dean grunted, and opened the door to the back seat for me. “Let’s get you out of it”.

\---

We drove north for a few hours in silence, taking small roads. Suddenly, Dean’s phone rang. He picked it up, holding it to his ear, while manning the steering wheel with his free hand.  
“Hello?... Frank. Thanks for getting back to me… Yeah, look we need… No, look… She’s not… Frank!”. He let out a frustrated growl, and slammed the phone on the dashboard.  
“No luck with Frank?”, Sam muttered.  
“He won’t take her”, Dean grunted, and looked at me in the mirror.  
“I guess I’m going to Lincoln”, I smirked.

Sam cleared his throat.  
“Seward, actually”, he said.  
“Sammy…”, Dean growled.  
“Just, give it a rest, Dean”, Sam sighed. He handed me a paper clipping. “Five similar deaths in the same house; over the span of 50 years”.  
“What are you thinking?”, I asked, as I looked over the article covering a strange story, involving a toaster in a bathtub, and a man electrocuted to death. “Sounds… ghosty”.  
“Ghosty?”, Dean grimaced. “Nice word, Daphne”.  
I sent him a menacing look in the mirror.  
“If anything, I’m Velma. I don’t just get by on my good looks, Fred…”.  
Dean muttered something below his breath.

Sam cleared his throat.  
“Yeah. Probably ghost”, he said. “The other deaths included a man who choked on a piece of carrot in his garage while working on his car, and another who fell of a ladder set up in the living room”.  
“That sounds… weird”.  
“Ghosts usually are weird”, Dean grunted.  
I shook my head.  
“No, I mean, who brings a toaster into a bathroom?”, I said.  
“A killer?”, Dean said exasperatedly.  
I sighed.  
“Was the guy married?”, I asked.  
“Yeah…”, Sam said.  
“To a woman… with hair”, I smiled. “Wouldn’t there be a hairdryer in the bathroom?”. He seemed to ponder my words.  
“She might be bald”, he muttered,   
“And the carrot in the garage? Who brings vegetables to fix up a car?”, I asked.  
“Sam would…”, Dean smirked.  
“Well, Sam’s special”, I grinned.

“So!”, Sam said, trying to divert the conversation. “Speaking of married. I heard Raul and Chad…”.  
Dean had told him about our conversation at Bobby’s house. At least part of it.  
“Yeah… Right before I saw you last”, I said. Deans eyes were fixed on the road in front of him.  
“And they’re happy?”, Sam asked.  
I nodded and smiled.  
“I think so. They moved to San Fran. About to adopt”.  
“That’s great!”, Sam smiled.   
“When this job is done, we can put you on a bus there”, Dean muttered.

I suddenly felt rage streaming through my body.  
“Pull over”, I said. Dean frowned. “Pull over, or I’ll jump out of the car while you’re still driving!”.

Dean stopped the car beside an abandoned gas station. I got out of the car, and walked down the road in the direction we’d been coming.  
I heard a car door slam behind me.  
“Lou!”, Dean called after me. “Get back in the car!”.  
“Screw you!”, I called back. “I’m going home”.  
He must have run after me, because suddenly his hand were on my shoulders, and he forced me to turn around.  
“What home? Your hotel is burnt down, and the police are looking for you; after you skipped town with two fugitives. Top it off; we got leviathans tracking you”.  
“And you”, I snarled.  
“You’re safer with us… for now”.  
I laughed sarcastically.  
“Oh, now you want me around…”.  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”, he frowned. His green eyes were on fire.

I pushed him away from me.  
“Three years, Dean!”, I growled. “You called it off; didn’t want me around, because I’d be safer… and because of free will… Well, guess what! I’m using my free will, to get away from you. Congrats. You got what you wanted”.  
I stomped away from him.

“Yeah. Call up Pete. I’m sure he can pick you up. Bring you home… See how long he can keep you alive!”, Dean called after me. I turned around, enraged.  
“Jealousy, Dean? Really?”, I snarled. “You trying to tell me you didn’t jump into the first warm bed you could find, after Cass brought me back to Denver?”.  
His eyes flickered.  
“I didn’t… Not right away”. He met my eyes again; looking hurt. “Not like you”.  
“What do you mean?”, I croaked.

He ran a hand down his face; clearly regretting his words.  
“Sam… went away. I thought he was dead”. He let out a deep breath. “I was alone. Bobby told me to go find you, but you were already… So, I went somewhere else. I couldn’t face being alone”.  
My heart dropped into my stomach.  
“It was… serious, I take it”, I muttered.  
He nodded.  
“Lisa… and her kid. She was… is, a really great person”.  
I took a deep breath.  
“That’s good. I’m happy for you”, I lied.

I wanted to run away; and to scream and cry. But all I could do was stand there, and pretend that he hadn’t just ripped my heart out; and thrown it on the ground, before stomping on it.  
“It’s over, Lou. Has been for a long time”, Dean said.  
“Doesn’t matter. It’s none of my business”, I whispered.  
He tilted his head, and parted his soft lips.  
“Isn’t it?”, he asked.  
“No. You chose to not make anything of… this”, I gestured between us.

He sighed.  
“I came back for you, Lou”.  
“You never let me know”, I said. “You could have showed yourself, instead of being a creepy stalker, and sending your winged boyfriend to watch over me”.  
“I spent a year grieving my brother, and missing you!”, he croaked.  
I looked him square in the face, and pushed hard at his chest.  
“In the arms of someone else”, I cried out.

“You moved on as well”, he said quietly. “Pete…”.  
“Was a sad break! For god’s sake, the man listens to Nickelback!”, I whimpered. “Why do you think I stayed in touch with Bobby? Other than the fact that I loved the old son of a bitch… It was my only link to you”.  
A tear escaped my eye.  
Dean stepped towards me, reaching for me; but I shrugged him off.  
“I can’t take back the last three years. But I never meant to hurt you”, he said.   
I scoffed.  
“Angels put us together, right?”, I rasped. “That’s why you’re saying this”.  
“I’m… not so sure anymore”.

I wiped my eyes, and took a deep breath:  
“What do you mean?”, I asked.  
“Fate… She’s a bitch, but meeting her taught me something about free will”, Dean muttered.  
“Fate?”, I asked.  
“It’s a long story…”, he grunted. “Point is; fate, or angels, or whatever; might have put us in each other’s paths – but we still have choice. Free will”.  
“To do what?”, I asked.  
“To act on what’s between us, or not”. He took a tentative step forward. “We can choose not to be together… Or we can choose the opposite”.

“You chose to stay away”, I whispered.  
He nodded sadly.  
“Yeah… Because I’m an idiot”.  
“You really are”, I agreed.  
Dean put a hesitant hand on my arm.  
“Please, just come with us”, he pleaded. “For whatever it’s worth, I want you safe. And me and Sam are pretty much the only people I know who I trust to keep you that way, right now”.

I looked into his eyes. His whole being radiated warmth and compassion for me in that moment – and something else. Something I knew what was, but was still too heartbroken and confused to accept.  
“Ok”, I whispered. “I’ll come with you”.  
Dean gave me a relieved smile, and opened his arms slightly, as if to embrace me.

I walked past him, and got back into the backseat of the car. Dean got in front of the wheel, and gave me a hard and confused look in the mirror.

\---


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3 years after having said goodbye to him, Dean Winchester drops back into Lulu’s life – leviathans hot at both the Winchesters and Lulu’s heels.  
> She skips town with the brothers, narrowly avoiding being eaten by a creature none of them know how to kill yet; and must now face her feelings for the eldest brother – feelings she does not completely trust.
> 
> Our story continues in season 7

We made it to a motel outside Seward, and checked in to a room with twin beds and a pull-out couch.  
The woman at the reception gave me a hard look, as if she was seriously judging my life choices. As it was, I was questioning them myself.

Having taken small roads, it was well past time for lunch, and Dean’s eyes lit up when he noticed a combined bar and restaurant across the street from the motel.  
Inside, a young waitress pulled her shoulders back to perk out her chest, when she saw Sam and Dean enter. Clearly not having counted on me being with them, she almost seemed surprised when I followed them all to a booth in a corner; sitting myself beside Sam, with Dean across from us.  
Giving me a dissatisfied look; she quickly turned on a sweet smile, and pulled out a pad.  
“What can I get you guys?”, she asked.  
“What’s the biggest burger you have?”, Dean smiled.  
“That’d be our XXL-Whomper”, the waitress said.  
“Give me that with fries. And a beer. Whatever you have on tap”, he winked at her.  
She seemed enthralled by his gesture, and I didn’t blame her.

After taking Sam’s order of a salad and a diet coke, the girl turned to me.  
“And the lady?”, she said; her smile not reaching her eyes.  
“Cheeseburger and jalapeño poppers. Ranch on the side”, I muttered.  
“To drink?”. I considered ordering a row of shots, but halted myself.  
“Bud… or whatever you have”.  
“Coming right up”, the waitress smiled at Dean.

I looked towards the bar, where a tired looking tender was taking orders from truckers.  
“Considering a dance?”, Dean smirked. “Seriously, I could give you boost, and get you right up there”.  
“Maybe later”, I grumbled. I shifted in my seat. “I need clothes”.  
Dean shrugged.  
“You’re dressed”, he said, and looked over my outfit, consisting of my least favorite jeans – they were too tight – and t-shirt, under my jacket.  
“I didn’t exactly bring a spare set of underwear, when you kidnapped me”, I said. “And I don’t have any money either, so I’m thinking that laundromat we passed might be my next stop. Must be something I can snatch up”.

The waitress sauntered back towards us with our drinks; swaying her hips as much as possible. She set down the drink; leaning forward to give Dean full view of her assets – ignoring Sam and me completely. I supposed this was because we sat next to each other, and she thought Dean was available. Which he is, I reminded myself.

“You can’t go alone. And you don’t need to steal”, Sam said quietly, as the waitress walked away.  
“We have cash”, Dean said, and took a sip of his beer.  
I shook my head.  
“I can’t take your money”, I muttered.  
Dean smirked, and pushed a black purse across the table.  
“I snatched the other me’s wallet, while you were busy grabbing your jacket”, he said. “He won’t miss it”.  
I frowned.  
“Is he dead? The guy he’s possessing, that looks like you?”.  
Sam shook his head.  
“They don’t possess people, they become them… sort of”.  
“And they don’t die easily… We haven’t figured out how to gank them yet”.

I raised my brows into a worried expression.  
“That sounds disconcerting”, I said.  
Sam smiled at me.  
“We just have to steer clear of them for now”, he said.  
Dean reached out and took my hand.  
“You’re gonna be fine, Lou”.  
I snatched my hand back, a bit more abruptly than I had planned. Dean narrowed his eyes for a second.  
“I’ll check out the second-hand store down the street, then”, I said. “And the Walmart. I’m not wearing other people’s underwear”.  
Sam chuckled.

“How did you guys know to come get me?”, I asked, and took a sip from my beer.  
“We know a guy with a computer”, Dean smirked. “Apparently Sammy decided to ask him to keep track of you”.  
I shook my head.  
“No, that was Bobby”.  
Dean narrowed his eyes at me.  
“Huh… Well, he must have kept it up after Bobby died, because he called us. Said there were irregularities on your accounts. Like they had been logged into from a different computer, than the one you’d usually use”.  
I frowned.  
“That’s enough to have you kick down my door?”, I muttered.  
Sam shrugged.  
“These days, yeah. The leviathans have been tracking all our fake cards and movements”.  
“It’s why we’re stuck driving that suburban-mom nightmare out there”, Dean grunted with distaste in his voice. “I miss my baby…”.  
Sam rolled his eyes.  
“We figured they’d be coming for you as soon as they could find you. Maybe change into you, and get to us like that”.

“So, what happens now?”, I asked. “You’re still working a case. Ghosts don’t quit because leviathans decide to go on a rampage”.  
“We set you up in the motel; and then Sam and me go talk to the widow of the electrocuted guy”.  
Sam clenched his jaw.  
“We should probably take Lulu with us”, he muttered. “As long as we don’t know if they’re still on her trail, she’s safer around us”.  
Dean looked at his brother incredulously.  
“Hunting? No”, he said; and looked up at the waitress who was returning with our order. “Thank you”, he smiled at her; making the girl blush.

Once she was gone, Sam leaned in over the table.  
“It’s not hunting. It’s… groundwork”, he said quietly.  
“When was the last time groundwork turned out to just be groundwork for us, Sammy?”, Dean grunted. “It’s never safe out there”.  
“You think I’ll be better of in a motel room, on my own?”, I muttered.  
Dean smiled at me.  
“You have that .45 and your angel sword. That wallet I gave you has quarters for the magic-fingers. Knock yourself out!”.  
He took a big bite of his burger.

\---

Two hours later we pulled up at a generic looking house, with a white picket fence. In the back of the car stood a bag of fresh clothes for me – but at the moment, I was wearing a black t-shirt, slacks and a grey blazer.

“This is so stupid, Sam. She should not be here!”, Dean grumbled.  
“She can hear you; and she’d prefer it if you didn’t treat her like a child”, I sneered.  
He turned and looked at me; his eyes ablaze, and the red stripes on his tie matching the redness of his flushed cheeks.  
“You, stay in the car”, he said menacingly.  
“Nope”, I smiled.  
He cursed below his breath, and got out of the car; Sam following him, after having given me an apologetic look.

I tried to open my own door, but couldn’t.  
“Child safety lock”, Dean called; before slamming his door shut.  
“Oh, come on!”, I yelled angrily.  
Dean waved at me, and walked up the small path to the house.

I rolled down my window, and put my arm out of it; opening the car from the outside.  
When he heard the door slam, Dean turned around, and gave me a frustrated look. Sam simply stifled a grin.  
“Shut it”, Dean grunted; as I joined them in front of the door.

Sam rang the doorbell, and a slight mousy looking woman opened the door.  
“Yes?”, she said.  
“Mrs. Harper?”, Dean said. “My name is Mick Green; and this is my partner – Doug Sandom. We’re with the insurance company”.  
The woman frowned.  
“I already talked to you people earlier this week”, she muttered, and began to close the door.  
“Ma’am, this is just to cross the t’s and dot the i’s”, Sam said; going full puppy dog in his expression.

The woman looked towards me. Dean clenched his jaw.  
“This is our… trainee…”, he muttered.  
“Joan Larkin, ma’am. I’m so sorry for your loss”. I stretched out my hand to shake hers. “Please, we’ll only take a moment of your time”.  
I smiled softly at her. She looked tired and sad, and I felt sorry for her.  
She stepped aside.  
“Please, come in”.

After some preliminary pleasantries, Mrs. Harper went into the kitchen for some drinks.  
“She has hair”, I whispered smilingly, from my seat between the brothers.  
Dean rolled his eyes.

Once the woman was seated in front of us, Sam smiled comfortingly at her.  
“I understand this is a difficult time, ma’am. We just need to clear up some things”.  
“Then – after – will you pay out his life insurance?”, Mrs. Harper asked.  
Dean smiled.  
“We’ll try to get things in motion”, he lied.

“Now, your husband died in the bathtub, as I understand?”, Sam said.  
The widow nodded.  
“It was the weirdest thing. One moment I’m grabbing him a towel in the hallway, and the next, he’s screaming bloody murder… and then everything smelled like boiled ham”.  
I winced for a second. Dean looked at me, and cleared his throat.  
“And… there was a toaster in the water?”  
Mrs. Harper nodded.

I looked over the room. There were numerous pictures of the woman herself alongside a burly looking man with a receding hairline.  
The widow took a handkerchief from her pocket, and patted her tear stained cheeks.  
“I know what this looks like. The police came by, and even they thought…”.  
Sam took a deep breath.  
“Ma’am, it’s not our place to judge; but were you and your husband having any issues? You mentioned your life insurance”, he asked softly.  
Mrs. Harpers eyes widened.  
“No! Not like that. We needed money, but I would never…”, the woman sobbed. “Rob was my world”.  
She blew her nose fiercely.

“Have you noticed anything weird around the house?”, Dean asked; his voice dark. “Any… cold spots?”.  
Mrs. Harper frowned.  
“Why would there be cold spots?”.  
Dean seemed surprised by the question.  
“Well, I…”.  
“It’s a normal insurance question, ma’am”, I intruded. “Cold spots may indicate electrical issues in the walls”.  
The woman’s eyes widened.  
“Really?”, she gasped.  
“Yeah, really?”, Dean muttered. I stepped on his foot.  
The woman looked around her, and shrugged.  
“I-i don’t think so”, she said.

“May I use your facilities, Mrs. Harper?”, Sam smiled.  
The woman shrugged.  
“There’s only the one upstairs; where Rob…”. She sighed. “Go ahead”.  
Dean downed his glass of water.  
“Do you mind?”, he smiled, handing Mrs. Harper the glass. “It’s been a long drive”.  
She nodded, and went into the kitchen, leaving Dean and me alone in the room.

“You, don’t talk!”, he hissed at me.  
I made a huffing sound.  
“I saved your ass. Just like when you were in Yankton”.  
He looked straight into my eyes menacingly.  
“Just, keep your mouth closed”, he muttered.  
I narrowed my eyes at him, and smirked.  
“Then, give it something better to do”, I whispered.

I only realized what I’d said, when Deans eyes widened, and his lips parted.  
“I’ll go wait in the car”, I croaked, and left the house as swiftly as I could.

I leant against the car, and took a deep breath. I hadn’t meant to say what I had – or maybe I had.  
Dean had talked about choosing to be together or not; but I didn’t know if he meant it, or felt compelled to mean it.

A few moments later, the brothers joined me outside; Sam looking questioningly at my flushed face.  
“You ok?”, he muttered.  
“I’m fine”, I whispered.  
Dean looked everywhere but at me.  
“Lulu…”, Sam began.  
“She said she’s fine. Let’s go”, Dean grumbled.

\---

Back at the motel, I grabbed some clean clothes; and sprang for the bathroom – getting into the shower. I turned on the cold water, and let it flow over my body, as I took deep breaths to calm myself.  
I felt so embarrassed.

When I met Dean, I was a kid, just out of college; working my first adult job. Even as I had stood in front of him then, I’d felt a deep connection – one that seemed important, and older than time.  
Two years later, when he’d informed me that angels had put us together – and not true emotion – I’d been destroyed. I’d even decided that I didn’t care; that I wanted him in my life.  
But he’d made it clear the he believed what we had wasn’t real – and we shouldn’t be together.  
And I’d moved on – at least I’d told myself that I had.  
Now he was in my life again, not only as my protector; but also with the door to his heart ajar – as if he wanted me to step inside again.

But I didn’t know if I wanted him. Not truly anyway. Because if it wasn’t real, what was the point?  
But then, why did I flirt with him?, I asked myself. And in such a juvenile way?.  
I put my hands against the wall, leaning my forehead to the cold tile.

There was a knock on the door.  
“Lou, don’t use up all the hot water”, Dean grunted from the other side.  
“Taking a cold shower”, I called back. Crap! Shut up!, I told myself.  
“Sounds… refreshing. Sam’s grabbing dinner”.  
“Ok. I’ll be right out”, I croaked.

I got dressed in clean underwear, a tank top, and a pair of comfortable sweatpants; which made me look frumpy enough to be comfortable with being in a room with Dean alone.  
I stepped outside, and began drying my hair with a towel.

“Sorry I was riding you so hard”, Dean said quietly.  
I forced myself not to think up any jokes about riding.  
“I get it”, I muttered. “You’re the professionals”. I added the s to make the sentence about both of them, and not just him.  
He nodded.  
“Yeah… You did good though”.  
“I didn’t say a lot”, I whispered.  
“No, but you did get me out of a tricky question”, he admitted. “Caught me off guard, is all”.  
“Sorry”, I said.

He sat down next to me:  
“I’m trying to say thank you”, he muttered.  
“Welcome”, I whispered. “When is Sam back?”.  
Dean shrugged disinterestedly.  
“He went for Chinese. Hope that’s ok”.  
“It’s fine”, I said, and stood up to hang the towel over a chair.

I heard him stand up behind me.  
“Lou… are you uncomfortable being alone with me?”, Dean breathed. I didn’t know what to say; but turned half way around, and looked at him from the corner of my eye. “I’m not gonna… do anything”, he said. “Unless you want me to”, he added with a nervous smirk.

I sighed.  
“Look… What you said back on that road… It was just a lot”, I said.  
“I know”, he muttered. “But I meant it. I need you to know that”.  
“Dean… I don’t know what to do with that information”, I responded. “You told me what we had wasn’t real. And I didn’t care… for the longest time, I just didn’t care. Even after Pete…”.  
His expression grew sad.  
“But?”.  
I chewed my lip.  
“You didn’t come back for me. And I didn’t really have any way to get into contact with you. Bobby wasn’t exactly forthcoming with your whereabouts while you were with… Lisa”.  
He looked down.  
“She and Ben… they picked me up from the ground. Helped me regain sanity again”, he said. “But they were never mine. And I wasn’t theirs”.

Our eyes met, and his lips parted. I wanted to run into his arms – and I wanted to run out of the door.  
“Because of me…”, I whispered.  
“Yeah… because of you”.  
I took in a stuttering breath.  
“Because I was made for you. Forced upon you”.  
He shook his head in frustration.  
“No, Lou…”.  
“That’s what you said”, I breathed. “The perfect mate, right? All I need to do now, is wait for Michael to gain entry; and then get to the business of popping out a few Nephilim, isn’t that it?”.  
“What’s a Nephilim?”, Dean grunted.  
I shook my head.  
“Read a book”, I muttered.

Dean clenched his jaw, and put his hands on the back of one of the chairs, leaning against it. His whole body was tense; and everything inside me screamed for me to take him in my arms, and comfort him.  
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I know you’d never say yes”.  
He shook his head.  
“It’s fine… It’s in the past”.

He ran his thumb over his lower lip, and chuckled to himself.  
“If someone had told me a year ago, I’d be alone in a room with you like this, I would have slapped them silly…”.  
“Why?”, I half smiled.  
He took a step towards me.  
“Because I wanted to forget you”, he said; letting go of the chair. “Up until Fate”.  
“When you found out you still had free will”, I whispered. “And what do you want to do with it?”.

He looked at me with warm eyes. They spoke of us, together.  
“Oh…”, I muttered.  
“You don’t…”, he said grimly, and looked down again.  
“I don’t know what I want. I’m… confused”, I admitted. “I want something real… Even if I choose you; is it really a choice? If I was made to feel the things I do?”.  
He nodded.  
“I get it… It’s was I was thinking back then”, he said. “But you do feel it… don’t you?”.  
“Yes…”, I whispered. “I just wish I believed it was real”.

He stepped over to me, and placed his hand on my cheek. I leant into it, and closed my eyes as his thumbs gently stroked my temple. I put my hand on his chest, and he leaned his forehead to mine.  
“Please believe”, he whispered through slightly parted lips.  
I tilted my head slightly upwards, and felt his warm breath against my face, just before his lips brushed mine. I drew in a short breath, and closed my eyes as we pressed our lips together; as in quiet understanding, that this was the time.

Deans arm snaked around my waist, and he pulled me close, and I felt him smile against my lips. I screamed at myself to accept it. Accept that what was happening between us was real emotion – true feelings – but his words from years before still rang in my head.  
It’s too perfect… You’re like made for me…  
I pulled back.  
“I’m sorry”, I whispered. “I can’t”. He instantly stepped away from me, giving me space. “I’m so sorry”, I croaked.

Sam stepped through the door with a large paper bag.  
“Hey. Got food”, he smiled.  
I slid on my boots, and grabbed my coat.  
“I need some air”, I muttered, and walked out the door, closing it behind me.

\---

I walked down the road; avoiding the streetlights as if they were spotlights searching for me.  
“Cass… if you’re out there… Please help me. I need to know the truth”, I whimpered to myself.  
As I’d expected, no angel came to my rescue. I was alone – and by choice.

My phone rang in my pocket. I looked at the screen, before picking up the call.  
“Pete…”, I croaked.  
“Hey, Lulu… You sound sad”, he said. “What’s wrong?”.  
“I’m… I don’t know. I miss…”. I didn’t know what to say. Bobby. Castiel. Dean.  
“I know, I miss you too”, Pete breathed. “Where are you?”.  
“Nebraska”, I said.  
“I didn’t know you had family in Nebraska?”, he said.  
“I don’t have…”, I began.  
“A lot of family, I know”, Pete said. “You don’t really have any family; do you…? You’re all alone in the world”.  
I shook my head, and stopped just before a ring of light under a street lamp.  
“What are you talking about?”, I said.  
“Who really cares about you, Lou?”. His voice became deeper – more gravely. It was Deans voice now. “No one really loves you. Not with their own free will, anyway…”.  
My breath hitched.  
“Who is this?”, I asked.  
“Someone who knows the truth… Your purpose in life. To belong to someone else… not truly your own. Do you think he would choose you if he wasn’t compelled to?”.  
“I-i don’t…”, I whimpered; tears beginning to stream down my cheeks.  
“Are you crying…? Of course, you are. It’s hard hearing the truth. I know what he really feels. He wishes he didn’t want you. He knows he’d never care if he wasn’t forced to”.  
“Why are you saying these things?”, I croaked.  
“To keep you on the line, so we can track your phone…”.  
I hung up, and threw my phone down on the road; stomping on it until it broke into pieces.

I ran back towards the motel; seeing the station wagon driving towards me. It halted a few yards from me, and Sam sprang out of the driver’s seat.  
“Lulu!”, he yelled. “You can’t run off like that. It’s not safe…”.  
“They tracked my phone. They’re coming for us!”, I yelled, and threw myself into the passenger’s seat. Sam sprang in after me, and drove back to the motel.

Inside the room, Dean was seated on one of the beds, drinking from a bottle of beer. When he saw me, his eyes instantly diverted.  
“Pack up. They tracked us”, Sam growled. Dean jumped up from the bed, and grabbed his things. I snatched my new second hand backpack – filled with my new and old clothes – and all three of us ran out the door.

“Call Garth. Have him take over the case here”, Dean growled. “We go west”.  
“Where?”, Sam asked, as we were all seated in the car.  
Dean started the engine.  
“San Francisco”, he grunted; sending me a look in the mirror. It was just a second, but his eyes spoke a thousand words; some of which I knew where I’m sorry. You’ll never have to see me again.  
He sped down the road, and out of town.

I closed my eyes, and sighed.  
“Just get me to a bus station”, I said.  
Sam turned to look at me.  
“Lulu, no! We can’t do that”, he retorted.  
“I’ll be fine. Stay out of sight… I know the deal”, I grunted.  
Sam shook his head.  
“Look, we’ll find somewhere else. Go on lockdown…”.  
“They’re using me to get to you!”, I yelled. “I’m no safer with you than anywhere else; but you’re in more danger if I stick around”.  
“Lulu…”, Sam began.

“She’s right, Sammy”, Dean said calmly; eyes still on the road. “We’ll take you as far as Iowa. Get out of the state; and find a bus station”.  
Sam looked at his brother incredulously.  
“And then she just goes to San Francisco?”, Sam asked.  
“No”, I muttered. “I can’t put that on Raul… Not now”.  
Sam looked back at me.  
“Where, then?”, he growled.  
“Better if you don’t know. I’m a weakness”, I said. “You’re protecting me because you think you have to”.  
Dean looked at me again in the mirror. This time his expression read as disagreeing, but he didn’t say anything.

Sam grimaced in frustration.  
“I’ll call Frank. Have him wire some money”. He grabbed a map from the glove compartment. “Rock Port. We’ll take you there”, he grunted.

\---

Five hours later I was standing in a bus station in Iowa; my backpack at my feet, and my head full of all the information the Winchesters could give me on leviathans. Sam handed we a wad of cash, a map; and a credit card in the name of Keith Moon.  
“Only use it in emergencies. They tracked most of our cards”. He pulled me into his arms, and held on to me tightly. “And this…”. He pulled a flip phone from his pocket. “There’s only one number on there. Jody Mills”.  
“The sheriff?”, I asked.  
“She knows how to get a hold of us if needed”, Sam muttered, and gave me the phone. “And remember what I told you about Borax”.  
“I’ll be fine”, I lied.  
He pulled me in for another hug; and I buried my face in his shoulder – having to stand on my toes to reach it.  
“Thanks”, I whispered, and pulled away from him.

Dean was stood a few paces away; looking at us. Sam wiped away a tear I hadn’t known was there; and I realized I was crying as well. Sam walked back towards the station wagon, and Dean came over to me.

“I’m sorry”, he said earnestly. “Seems all I do is steamroll into your life, and turn it upside down”.  
“My life in Kansas City wasn’t exactly picture perfect”, I replied. “And you had to, right?”.  
He shook his head.  
“I don’t care if I did…”, he breathed. “But you do… And I get it. Maybe some day you’ll…”. He let out a deep breath. “Just be happy, ok?”, he said.  
I tried for a smile, but it turned into saddened frown.  
“You too…”, I croaked. “I really wish…”.  
“I know”, Dean whispered.

I took his hand, and put it to my cheek.  
“If this was real, I’d kiss you right now”, I breathed, and looked into his warm eyes.  
He raised a brow at me.  
“If you’d just believe this was real, I’d have you naked in the nearest motel room”, he smirked. I glared at him. “Sorry…”, he smiled more softly.

“I’m gonna miss you, Fred”, I smiled.  
“Goodbye, Velma”, he replied.  
I leant in and kissed his cheek; when his arms folded around me, and he leant in to whisper into my ear.  
“Save a dance for me, Lou… I’ll lie awake”. He kissed my temple, and let go of me; walking away.

\---

I went east for a while, moving towards Chicago; and leaving a trail of credit card receipts. At a diner outside Des Moines, the tv showed a news report about grave robberies in Seward, Nebraska. An insurance agent from the 60’s had been dug up, and for some strange reason, his bones had been burnt.  
Whoever Garth was, he wasn’t very good at covering his tracks.

On a bus towards Cedar Rapids, I noticed a car trailing behind; taking the same stops and turns as the bus. As I’d planned, they’d tracked me.  
At the next stop, I dropped the credit card in the lap of a guy who looked like he’d probably use a stolen card. I ran for the station’s bathroom, and hid out for a while; before going back outside, and hitching a ride south.

Nowhere, Oklahoma. The name sprang into my eyes as I looked over the map my giant of a friend had given me. It was tiny. Perfect.  
I’d needed to disappear, and what place better than a place where the name was literally an answer to where I was. Where is she? You’ll find her Nowhere.

I had to take several busses, and hitched another ride with a creepy looking trucker, who ditched me on the side of the road, when I wouldn’t put out.  
In the end, I made it to Nowhere.  
In my backpack I had my clothes, a bottle of ready mixed Borax, a toothbrush; and some drugstore makeup and hair dye.

With no motel in the town, I searched out the nearest bar. The eager looking bartender greeted me cheerfully. I asked about work in the area, and he instantly offered me a job as a waitress – his former one having skipped town the week before.  
“You don’t need experience. Just don’t trip over your own feey when you serve the beers”, my new boss had smiled.  
There was a small room above the bar; and I accepted a pay cut to be able to stay there.

I lined the windowsill and the bottom of the door with salt, and stuck my gun into the back of my jeans – before grabbing an apron, and getting to work.

\---

3 months later.

The stretch of road in front of them looks like every other they travel. At least he’s back in his baby; who is purring beautifully from under the hood.  
His brother is there next to him, as usual – their relationship somewhat good at the moment. Having the angel reappear in their lives was a surprise; one that he’s not sure how to feel about yet; but he’s at least happy he’s alive.  
Counting out the Dick made of black goo; things would be all right, if something wasn’t missing.  
There is a hole inside him – one that only one person has been able to fill – and she’s gone.  
Sam’s phone rings, and he picks it up.  
“Yeah… Jody? Give me a sec…”. He presses a button. “You’re on speaker”.  
“Hey guys… I just got a weird call from someone claiming to be your friend”, the sheriff says.  
He frowns, and looks at the phone.  
“They give you a name?”, he asks.  
“No, nothing. She just said to let you know there was a Borax incident in Nowhere”.  
“Nowhere?”, Sam asks.  
“Yeah. Nowhere, Oklahoma. She sounded like she was in a rush. She said; Keith Moon went to Chicago. Velma washed floors in Nowhere, when a guy’s feet started melting… Does any of this make any sense to you?”.  
Dean and Sam send each other a look.  
“Yeah, it makes sense. Thanks, Jody”, Sam says, and hangs up.  
Dean clenches his fingers around the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turn white.  
“She wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t important”, his brother mutters.  
“I know”, he grunts. “How far is Nowhere?”.  
“Oklahoma City’s about 10 hours away, if we skip breaks for food”.  
He steps down harder on the pedal, and the engine roars; speeding up down the road.  
8 hours later they are standing in a bar in a small town about 40 miles outside Oklahoma City. A waitress brushes up against Dean with a bright smile, as she nabs a tray of drinks from a tired looking bartender, who is answering their questions.  
“No, sir. No deaths or accidents around here. Unless you count me losing my favorite waitress, as an accident”, the bartender says. He looks with tired eyes at the waitress, who is now on her way to serve some patrons in a booth. She trips over her own feet, and drops the tray on the floor.  
“Whoopsies!”, the young woman smiles. She bends down as seductively as she can, and looks over her shoulder at Dean.  
If it hadn’t been for... He dismisses the thought. The last time he tried to use a one night stand to get over her, he’d ended up a baby-daddy to a monster.  
The bartender rolls his eyes. “Good help is hard to find”.  
He frowns at the man.  
“She go missing?”, he asks.  
The bartender shrugs in response.  
“I think she just skipped town with some guy…”.  
Sam clears his throat in that worried way he does, when he thinks something is terribly wrong. Dean can’t help but feel the same way.  
“What makes you think she skipped town?”, Sam asks.  
“Well, she was a good enough girl, but she never seemed really happy here; you know?”, the bartender says. “Three days ago, she was helping me close up – washing the floors – when this guy comes in, and walks over to her”.  
“What did he look like?”, Dean asks.  
“Fedora, leather jacket…”, the bartender begins.  
“Too tight jeans?”, Dean interrupts. The bartender nods.  
“I went to put away some bottles out back, and when I returned, they were both gone”.  
Sam’s eyes catch something on the floor.  
“Excuse me; but what is that over there?”, he asks; and points towards two foot-shaped markings on the floor.  
The bartender shrugs.  
“I have no idea. It was there when she left. Looks like something melted into the floor, right? I haven’t been able to get it off”.  
Sam goes over to look at the markings; and pokes at them with a pen. Dean joins his brother, and instantly recognizes the goo. He swallows hard.  
“Try Borax”, he says over his shoulder to the bartender.  
The man chuckles.  
“That’s what Velma always used”.  
Dean turns around, furrowing his brow.  
“That was her name?”, he asks.  
The bartender nods.  
Sam stands up, and walks back to the counter.  
“Where was she staying?”, he asks.  
“Just upstairs”, the tender responds.  
They go up to a small rom with a single bed, a wardrobe and a table.  
“What was that thing about what the guy looked like?”, Sam asks. “What does it matter?”.  
Dean frowns.  
“He was impersonating the ex… Pete”, he responds.  
“You worried she’d believe it? Go with him?”, Sam says.  
“She’s too smart for that”, Dean grunts, with a crooked smile. “But she might have tried to fight”.  
The thought of this sends chills down his spine. She’s smart, knows so much – but he doesn’t think she’s strong enough for a fight like that. He knows she’s not.  
They begin searching the room for any clue as to where she might have gone, or the leviathan might have taken her.  
“Dean…”, Sam says. He joins his brother by the bed. There are what looks like dried blood on the sheet; which has been shredded. He swallows hard. “She might be…”, Sam begins.  
“Don’t”, Dean says. “She’s not…”. He feels a mixture of rage and sorrow build up; just as it did when Bobby…  
But this is different. Bobby was a hunter. Lou… He brought this on her. They used her to get to him.  
He turns around, walks over to the small wardrobe, and slams his fist into the door – the wood of it breaking from the sheer force.  
“We’ll find her”, Sam says quietly. “At least give her a hunter’s burial”.  
Dean closes his eyes, and lets out a deep breath.  
“Uhm, fellas’?. The waitress is standing outside the door; holding up a phone. “Is one of you John Osbourne?”.  
Dean opens his eyes.  
“Why?”, he calls.  
“I got a phone call here for you. Some lady…”. She smiles sweetly at him, and bites her lip, as he nabs the phone from her. She walks down the stairs again, swaying her hips.  
“Hello?”, Dean breathes.  
“Dean…”.  
He lets out a sigh of relief. Her voice still makes his heart leap, and sends warm waves of joy through him.  
“Lou…”. Sam’s eyes light up. What?, he mouths. “Are you ok?”, Dean asks.  
“I’m… yeah”.  
“There was blood… I thought…”.  
“Just a scratch. I found someone to stitch me up. Don’t worry”. He can hear the smile in her voice, reminding him of the face she’d make every time he kissed her. Except for the last time…  
“Where are you?”, he demands.  
“I can’t tell you. You know that…”. She sighs. “Dean, I left something there… I didn’t know what to do with it”.  
He frowns.  
“What?”.  
“In the wardrobe… There’s a box”.  
Dean gestures towards the broken wardrobe door, and Sam goes to open it. He grimaces in confusion, as he pulls out a cardboard box; which seems to have some weight to it.  
“Don’t open it around anyone…”, she says. Dean closes the door to the hallway; and walks over to the box; which Sam has placed on the bed.  
Dean gently opens the lid of the box, and lets out a short breath. Sam’s expression is one of pure marvel.  
“Can you… get rid of it for me?”, she asks.  
“How the hell did you manage this?”, Dean asks, as he looks down into the box; meeting the eyes of a fedora hat wearing head.  
“I picked up some tricks along the way”. This time he hears her smirk; that annoying, yet endearing expression that always sends heat straight to… Another time, another place, Dean, he thinks to himself.  
He clears his throat.  
“We’ll take care of it”, he says quietly. He closes his eyes, and sees her face in front of him. “Please tell me where you are, Lou…”  
“No, Dean. I’m sorry. You and me… I can’t. Not if it’s not real”.  
He clenches his jaw.  
“What are you gonna do now?”, he asks.  
“You wouldn’t like the answer…”, she responds.  
He opens his eyes.  
“No, sweetheart. That’s not an option”, he grunts. “You’re way out of your league there…”.  
He hears her chuckle.  
“A few salt and burns here and there for practice”, she says. “I’ll be fine. And you can focus on the leviathans”.  
“Lou, no!”.  
Sam looks at him questioningly. He looks at his brother with hard eyes.  
“Kick their asses for me, ok?”.  
“Lou!”, Dean yells. She’s hung up.  
He throws the phone on the bed in frustration.  
“What happened?”, Sam mutters. “Where is she?”  
Dean lets out a deep breath.  
“Lou’s on a hunting trip… and she won’t be home in a few days”.  
\---


End file.
